


4 A.M.

by Medie



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-26
Updated: 2010-03-26
Packaged: 2017-10-08 08:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These days, the kid three floors down dreaming about Friday's math test is enough to wake him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	4 A.M.

**Author's Note:**

> written from a prompt by [](http://elvinborn.livejournal.com/profile)[**elvinborn**](http://elvinborn.livejournal.com/) for the [Kissing Meme](http://medie.livejournal.com/1497353.html).

He's awake, again. The couch springs digging into his back as he stares at the ceiling, waiting. He's always been a light sleeper, startled awake by the slightest of noises, but it's worse now. When he was a kid, it was only his own nightmares that kept him awake.

These days, the kid three floors down dreaming about Friday's math test is enough to wake him up.

Matt groans. He hates this part. He hasn't had a good night's sleep since he went off his pain medication. The drugs that had kept him fuzzy and unfocused had also given Matt his first full night of sleep. Ever.

He misses them.

A telepath living in a crowded building in a crowded city; he's going to miss them a lot more.

He shifts, moving to run the sore spot on his back. Dawn is still a few hours away. Most people are still asleep. If there's a time to try and rest this is it.

Except the trucker living across the hall is back from his last run. Matt grins wryly. At least _someone_ is having a good night. He settles back, trying to avoid that stray spring, and closes his eyes. Mohinder's been teaching him some meditation exercises. In theory, they're supposed to help him block out the rest of the city. He's not so sure, but the cup of warm milk didn't work. He's drunk enough by now to open his own dairy farm.

He concentrates on relaxing, trying to remember exactly how the first exercise went, and tries to drift off.

He opens his eyes. A footstep creeks in the hall.

"Forget it, Mohinder," he says, his voice pitched low. "You know I'm awake."

In the dim light from the street, Matt can still see the sheepish expression on Mohinder's face. "I'm sorry," he apologizes. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Matt sits up, throwing the blanket off his legs. "You didn't. I was awake anyway." He stands, jerking a thumb in their neighbor's direction. "Viagra's got nothing on Mannion." He scratches his back and looks at Mohinder. "So, I know why I'm awake, you?"

Mohinder shrugs. "Just one of those nights." Worry leaks around the edges of his thoughts, betraying him.

"I'll get the hang of this sooner or later, Mohinder," Matt assures. "No need for both of us to be sleep deprived."

"Well, I can't help but worry," Mohinder says. "You're the one whose job requires him to be alert at all times."

"I'm on desk duty," Matt says, heading for the kitchen. Might as well try coffee this time. It's not like the caffeine will be the only thing keeping him up. "Until the doctor clears me, I can't even think about the detective's exam." He opens the refrigerator, bending over to look inside. "You want something?"

A fleeting thought he can't quite catch whispers its way through Mohinder's mind. Mohinder clears his throat. "Coffee would be fine," he says, voice strained.

Matt nods. He focuses on the coffee. It's been like this for weeks. Mohinder's mind is usually a mismatched jumble of English, Tamil, and half a dozen other languages. Picking anything out of it is a guessing game at the best of times, but lately Matt's been wondering. It's not something he can quite make himself believe. He's known about himself for years. Being bi in California's practically trendy. He's never had to give it much thought before. Keep it out of the workplace, which was fine by him, and he was okay.

It's not okay right now. He flicks on the coffee maker, ignoring the way his hand shakes. He's not going to let himself get distracted. Not when he doesn't know, truly, what Mohinder feels. He's here for Molly. They both are. If it weren't for Molly, Matt would've disappeared to the smallest town he could manage. Not many minds and not many distractions. Mohinder would've probably disappeared with Bennet and his family. Not exactly Matt's idea of Nirvana, his mind stubbornly presents another image for that, but it would have been okay. Mostly.

"You seem distracted," Mohinder says. He's right behind Matt now and did he have to be doing that? The whole breathing thing is way more distracting than Matt would have ever thought. "Perhaps you should take my bed for the night. You could – "

"It's fine, Mohinder," Matt says, cutting him off. The idea of sleeping in _that_ bed is the last thing he can handle. He's got enough to keep him up nights now. "I've been working on those exercises," he says. "I'll get a handle on them sooner or later." He looks over his shoulder, pasting a bright smile on his face. "Easy as pie."

Mohinder smiles, wry. "Somehow I doubt that," he says. He reaches past Matt, hooking his fingers through two mugs. His arm brushes Matt's as he pulls back, the scent of his cologne filling Matt's senses. God, the man is merciless. "Controlling such a powerful ability is going to be anything but easy."

"Or maybe it'll be easier than you think," Matt says. "It's like learning to walk. Murder at first, but after a while," he shrugs. "Like I said, easy as pie." He looks at Mohinder. "It's not like I'm straying into your head every five minutes. I only have trouble when I fall asleep." He thinks of the dreams he's been having. The feeling of Mohinder's legs sliding against his, his mouth hot beneath Matt's, and his hands always touching and stroking. He tries not to shiver, angling away from Mohinder. Whoever's dreams those are, he doesn't want to know. He's not sure he can handle finding out they're just his. "We'll really worry if I start spouting foreign languages and genetic theory."

"Don't tease me, Matt," Mohinder says, winking. "Suggestions like that get me all excited."

Matt swallows. "Can't have that," he rasps out. "You're enough trouble now." He focuses on the coffee pot, watching drop after drop fall.

_Matt_, Mohinder thinks. There's a plaintive emotion threading through his name. A longing that Matt can't bring himself to name. "What do you see when you sleep?"

It's out. The proverbial elephant in the room. Matt looks at the coffee pot and then at Mohinder. "Other than Molly's nightmares and dreaming we bought her a house in the country complete with it's own pony?" He musters up another bright smile, but it's brittle about the edges. "Not much." He pauses. "Well, other than being an accidental third part to Mannion and his girlfriend, not much."

Mohinder's smile wavers. For a second, Matt sees that same plaintive emotion on his face. He reaches out, his fingers brushing Matt's arm. "Are you certain?"

He can hear the question underneath. The silent plea for something more. Matt can't make himself speak. He shakes his head slowly and takes a step forward. Mohinder stays where he is, frozen stock still, and Matt can hear the thoughts racing through his mind. Half of it English, half of it probably Tamil, and a sprinkling of languages he doesn't recognize. All of it terrified, excited, and maybe just a little overjoyed.

Matt's smile is nervous, but his own as he brushes fingertips over Mohinder's cheek. He pushes a curl back from Mohinder's forehead. His hand is still shaking. "God," he breathes.

"Matt," says Mohinder in the same tone.

"If Molly wakes up now, I swear I'll die," Matt says, grinning. He slides his hand down Mohinder's shoulder, tangling their fingers together briefly, then wraps it around his waist. "If you're going to stop me, now'd be a damn good time."

Mohinder grins. His heart is racing and Matt swears his own pulse is thundering through his ears. "I won't stop you," he says. "I may hit you for not hurrying up, however, so best get to it."

Lowering his head, Matt stops. "Oh sure," he says, "take all the romance out of this."

"Not possible," Mohinder says just before Matt kisses him.

Matt's dreamt of this for weeks - months - and he's imagined it from every possible angle. Absolutely none of them even come close to the reality. On his first pass, their noses bump. On the second, Mohinder zigs when Matt zags and Matt kisses his nose. "God, we suck at this," Matt complains.

"Just so long as we suck at something else," Mohinder grins. He tilts his head back. "Third time's a charm?"

"Don't move," Matt warns, still laughing.

Mohinder doesn't. This time, his lips are warm, real, and alive beneath Matt's. Carefully, Matt presses him back into the counter. He rests his hands on Mohinder's hips, his thumbs brushing the warm skin left bare by his pajama pants. Matt flicks his tongue against Mohinder's mouth, more playful than he feels, and Mohinder surges forward. His hips rock up against Matt's and Matt's knees go weak.

_Matt_, Mohinder thinks again. It's thicker this time. A groan full of want and pleasure. Images flood Matt's mind. His dreams coming to life. Long legs, warm skin, and so much movement that he thinks he could die of wanting it.

He pulls his mouth from Mohinder's, looking at him. Dark eyes fix on him. They're both breathing hard.

"That offer still stands," Mohinder finally says. He nods over Matt's shoulder toward the bedroom. "Plenty of room."

Matt looks at the coffee. "Coffee's done."

Pushing him backward, Mohinder grins. "Warm it up later. We've a case of insomnia to solve."

Matt doesn't get much sleep the next night, but at least this time, it's for a good reason.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [4 A.M. (The Dream a Little Dream Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/638209) by [celli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celli/pseuds/celli)




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